Heirs of Slytherin
by saraiza
Summary: What if the Steward lineage had continued? What if there were more Slytherin heirs in America? What if they came to England after learning about their distant cousins return?
1. Tradition Can Be Damned

Heirs of Slytherin

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Summary: What if the Steward lineage had continued? What if there were more Slytherin heirs in America? What if they came to England after learning about their distant cousins return?

* * *

 _July, 1995_

Jim Steward isn't shocked to learn that his distant cousin, Tom Riddle or as he prefers to be called, Lord Voldemort, had returned to the land of the living. Nor is he shocked to find Albus Dumbledore, a man whom he had known for years, as had his father and grandfather, in his private office inside his home.

"Albus," Jim says as he acknowledged the man in front of him. Dumbledore gave the heir of Slytherin a polite nod as he looked at the photos Jim had nailed to his wall. It featured photos of Jim's wife and kids, as well as his brothers and sister.

"How's Diana?" Dumbledore asks, talking about Jim's wife of many years. He was looking at a photo of her, her black hair and brown eyes were in contrast to Jim's dark blond hair and blue eyes.

"She's good," Jim said, looking at the photo. He found himself then looking at the photo of his three kids, sons Peter, Rory, and daughter Riley. Peter was 15 and Riley and Rory 11. Peter had brown hair and eyes, while Rory had brown hair and blue eyes and Riley had blonde hair and blue eyes.

"So the rumors are true," Jim said as he tore his eyes away from the picture of his children.

Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately. I'm surprised that you believe it."

"It's too insane to believe that it's not," Jim says as he looks at an older photo. It's of him and his siblings from 16 years ago. His brothers Matt, Dean and Peter were there, as was his sister Joy. Matt had been his twin, not identical but fraternal. Both Matt and Peter were dead though, murdered not long after that photo had been taken. Dean and Joy were alive though, they both had families of their own. "Is there anything you need from me?"

Dumbledore frowned. "If it's not too much to ask, James."

"Ask away."

"It involves leaving the country for a few months. Would Diana be upset by the idea of her children not attending Ilvermorny?"

Jim frowned. "If anything, that question should be directed towards not only my wife but myself as well. There's never been a Steward who hasn't attended Ilvermorny." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Tradition can be damned for a couple of months though."

* * *

Harry was seen inside Grimmauld Place. He was angered over the fact that he had been kept in the dark about the Order of the Phoenix.

He was entering the kitchen for breakfast when he heard the Order arguing amongst themselves over something. Ron and Hermione were close behind him, arguing about the house-elf that lived here.

"Dumbledore should of at least _warned_ us about the Americans," Mrs. Weasley said as she moved around the kitchen, setting everything up for dinner.

"You mean Slytherins?" Sirius said with a scoff. That made Harry stop in his tracks. Slytherins? "They may not have the Slytherin name, but that doesn't change the fact that they're carrying his blood."

Harry looked back at his friends, who had also heard the discussion between the Order members.

"How are we going to tell Harry?" Tonks asked. "He has a right to know after all. Especially since some of them are coming to Hogwarts this year."

A look of anger crossed Harry's face as he entered. "Considering I just heard everything, you don't have to tell me anything. Nothing new there."

"Harry, we only found last night," Lupin said, sighing.

"When are they coming?"

"As far as we know, in a few hours."

"Bloody Hell," Ron said as he shook his head in disgust. "Are they really Slytherins?"

Lupin nodded with a scowl on his face. "Slytherin had a descendant who made her way to America back when the country was still apart of England. According to Dumbledore, he's known at least five different generations of them. He says we can trust them, so that has to mean something."

Harry was skeptical about this. Trusting a bunch of Slytherins descendants? That was like having complete trust in Voldemort, Merlin, it was probably the same thing.

"How did he meet them?" Hermione questioned. "The Slytherins?"

"Steward actually, their surname is Steward," Lupin said, frowning. "And from what Dumbledore told us, he met the Stewards during the 1920's."

"Five generations?" Hermione asked. "How could he have known them since the 1920's then?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest, but then again the oldest Steward could have been quite old when he met them."

* * *

Dumbledore had dropped the Stewards off by the time dinner was finished, only the Order wasn't aware of that.

Jim, his wife, and their children were inside 12 Grimmauld Place. They were led into the drawing room, where a large tapestry of the Black family tree laid on the walls. It didn't take long for Jim to find his great-great-grandfather, M. P. Black. To Jim's surprise, the man hadn't been blasted off of the family tree, as other members had been. M. P. Black, after all, had married a woman who was notorious for her family's history of marrying no-majes.

 _"Honestly, they're probably a bunch of dark wizards,"_ Jim heard off in this distance. He scowled, knowing that they were talking about his family. _"I trust Dumbledore, but that doesn't mean I'm going to trust the Slytherins."_

 _"Steward,"_ someone had corrected.

 _"I bet they're with You-Know-Who,"_ another voice said, sounding disgusted. _"We can't trust any of them. They're Slytherins. Take a look at the ones who are in his house, for Merlin's sake! These ones are bound to be even eviler than the ones at Hogwarts."_

Jim scowled at this. He looked down at his youngest son, Rory, who happened to be his youngest child. "Rors." The boy looked up at his father, his blue eyes wide. "You and Riley go and meet our _lovely_ hosts. Show them what an _evil Slytherin_ looks like, yeah?"

Jim's two youngest children only look at each other before looking at their father and abruptly ran out of the room.

Diana, Jim's wife, glared at her husband. "You really are a damn Slytherin, James Steward."

Jim shrugged, a manipulative but charming smirk crossing his face. "They want to know what a Slytherin's like. What better way than to show them two?"

* * *

As Ron continued on with ranting, the door swung opened, revealing two kids who couldn't have been over 11-years-old. One was a boy with brown hair and blue eyes, which were hidden by horned rimmed glasses. The other child was a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. Judging by the fact that they looked like they both were about to start crying, they clearly had heard most, if not all of Ron's harsh words. It made them look younger than what they possibly were.

A majority of the Order, as well as Harry and Hermione, could see the two kids and everyone instantly paled.

"Ronald," Mrs. Weasley said as she stared down at the two children in shock.

"Seriously though, I bet they all can talk to bloody snakes!" Ron continued on, ignoring his mother. "I bet they've already-

 _"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"_

Scowling at his mother, Ron saw that she, nor anyone else was actually looking at him, but behind. Turning around, he saw the two children and his face instantly turned red.

His mouth wide opened, it looked as though Ron was about to start speaking, but a man with dark blond hair and blue eyes beat him to it as he entered the kitchen.

"If that's the best you've got, kid, please continue," the man drawled out as he leaned against the doorway.

* * *

So, what do you think?

I know there might be some mistakes, so I apologize.

Please, review, like, and/or follow. That would great.

Until next time...


	2. Snake Boy

Heirs of Slytherin

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Thanks to those who have followed, favored and/or reviewed.

* * *

 _Previously..._

 _"Seriously though, I bet they all can talk to bloody snakes!" Ron continued on, ignoring his mother. "I bet they've already-_

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

 _Scowling at his mother, Ron saw that she, nor anyone else was actually looking at him, but behind. Turning around, he saw the two children and his face instantly turned red._

 _His mouth wide opened, it looked as though Ron was about to start speaking, but a man with dark blond hair and blue eyes beat him to it as he entered the kitchen._

 _"If that's the best you've got, kid, please continue," the man drawled out as he leaned against the doorway._

* * *

 _July, 1995_

Awkward silence quickly entraps the room. Everyone's staring at the three newcomers. The man looked down at the two children.

 _"Go to your mother, Rory, Riley,"_ the man said in Parseltongue, making everyone jump back in fear. The man noticed that Harry was staring at him with wide, furious eyes. _"Well, if it isn't the infamous Harry Potter. I see my disgrace of a cousin hasn't killed you yet."_ The man appeared to look amused. _"He's rather incompetent, isn't he? He drops fully grown wizards like flies but failed to murder one infant. How disappointing."_

Harry glared at the man. "Are you disappointed that he failed to kill me?"

The man wryly smirked. "On the contrary, I'm rather disappointed that he failed to do something that regular no-majes can do themselves. Honestly, using magic on you was probably his greatest downfall."

This confused Harry and the Order. "What do you mean?"

The man gave Harry a casual, but frustrated look. "You really aren't the sharpest knife, are you? Your scar precedes you then."

"That's enough!" Mrs. Weasley said as she stepped in. She pointed her finger in the man's face. "You stay clear from Harry and the other children here!"

The blue-eyed man gave Mrs. Weasley a charming smirk. "Gladly, after your son over there," he motions towards Ron. "Apologizes for saying what he said in front of my children."

Mrs. Weasley frowned, but couldn't find any faults in that.

"I'm not going to apologize!" Ron protested, glaring at the man in front of him. "Your children are just guilty as the rest of your bloody family!"

"Do tell, boy, what are we guilty of again?"

"You've got Slytherin blood in you!" Ron exclaimed. "No doubt you believe that muggle-borns and muggles are beneath you."

"Is that all?" The man nonchalantly questioned. "I could personally name off everything I've heard about my family. How we've killed no-majes, supported pure-blood supremacy, the whole nine yards." He then chuckled. "Imagine the shock when they discover that my wife's a no-maj, as was my mother and grandmother, despite it being illegal at the time for wizards and no-majes to mingle amongst each other."

"What?"

The man grinned. He held out his hand for Ron to shake. "Jim Steward, I would be lying to say that it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Weasley, but I have semi-better manners than that." He then nodded in Harry's direction after putting his hand down. "I thought you'd be a bit taller, Mr. Potter."

* * *

Eventually, the rest of the Steward's had joined Jim in the kitchen as dinner was set down.

"What houses are you in kids in?" Tonks asked Peter, Riley, and Rory. So far, she was the only one who had really accepted that the Steward's were going to be staying there for now.

"We start school this year," Riley said while Rory only nodded in agreement.

Peter merely shrugged. "Horned Serpent."

"Horned Serpent, which one of the Ilvermorny founders created that one?" Hermione asked, her curiosity getting the best of her."

"Isolt Sayre," Peter answered, looking up at Hermione with a slight blush. "James Steward founded Pukwudgie house, Chadwick Boot founded Thunderbird, and his brother Webster founded Wampus." Fiddling with his fingers, Peter continued. "Horned Serpent is said to represent a wizards mind, Pukwudgie the heart, Thunderbird the soul, and Wampus the body."

"So you're rather intelligent, aren't you?" Hermione questioned, to which she only received a mere shrug as a response.

"Are you really a muggle?" Ron bluntly questioned Diana, who merely raised an eyebrow at the teenager.

 _"Ronald!"_

"No, it's a fair enough question," Diana said to Mrs. Weasley before speaking to Ron. "I was born with no magic, nor were my parents and their parents before them. I understand that the laws involving no-majes are different here than they are in the United States, So I'm going just going to tell you straight." She leans slightly forward as she examines Ron and the other British wizards. "No-majes are starting to be more accepted amongst the wizarding population in America. Before Rappaport's Law had been repelled, wizards would be considered criminals had they developed friendships, or dare I say marriages, with no-majes. Ironically, Illvermorny is considered to be one of the most accepting schools when it comes to the relationship between those with and without magic."

"Why do you say that?" Harry asked, confused.

Diana smirked. "One of the founders, James Steward, was a no-maj. He helped build the school, and he made wands for his family and pupils. How many schools can say that they come from both wizarding and non-wizarding background and be proud of it? Unfortunately only one."

She looked at her husband and children before looking back at everyone else. "So what if they've got Slytherin blood in them, the Steward's are more accepting than most would be when it comes to no-maj-borns, and squibs."

* * *

The last place Peter Steward wanted to be was inside a dingy old house in a country he's never been in before. It was out of his comfort zone.

 _"This'll be good for you, Pete,"_ the teenager hears in Parseltongue. Looking up from the book in his lap, he sees his father looking down at him from his spot in one of the many guest rooms. He has to share with Rory while Riley's stuck with the Weasley girl and pretty girl who kept asking questions. _"You need to...I don't know, open up more to people outside of the family. Make some friends while we're here."_

Peter frowned. _"I have friends."_

 _"Well, then you should make more friends while we're stuck here,"_ Jim says, a grin sticking itself on his face. _"I saw how you looked at that one girl."_

 _"Dad..."_

 _"Alright, fine,"_ Jim said as he started going towards the door. _"All I'm trying to say is that you need a life, kid."_

"Great advice," Peter muttered sarcastically as he looks back down at his book. He might as well get as much reading done as possible before Rory came in. The last thing he wanted was for his little brother's non-stop talking to distract him. A look of annoyance flickered across his face as he suddenly felt that he was no longer alone. "What the Hell are you looking at?"

The house-elf at the door was staring right at Peter. "Kreacher hears you have the blood of the great Salazar Slytherin."

"Unfortunately," Peter muttered darkly. "What do you want?"

If the house-elf was offended by Peter's cold remark, he didn't show it. "Kreacher heard hissing. You speak the language of the snake."

Peter only nods as the house-elf comes forward. It was then that the boy noticed the strange looking locket in Kreacher's hands.

"Take this," Kreacher says as he places the locket in Peter's hands and closes his fingers around it. "Destroy it, snake boy. Destroy it."

A look of confusion crossed Peter's face as he watched the house-elf slowly creep out of the room. Opening up his hands, Peter's eyes widened as he realized what he was actually holding.

* * *

So, what do you think?

I know there might be some mistakes, so I apologize.

Please, review, like, and/or follow. That would great.

Until next time...


	3. The World Itself

Heirs of Slytherin

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Thanks to those who have followed, favored and/or reviewed.

* * *

 _Previously..._

 _The house-elf at the door was staring right at Peter. "Kreacher hears you have the blood of the great Salazar Slytherin."_

 _"Unfortunately," Peter muttered darkly. "What do you want?"_

 _If the house-elf was offended by Peter's cold remark, he didn't show it. "Kreacher heard hissing. You speak the language of the snake."_

 _Peter only nods as the house-elf comes forward. It was then that the boy noticed the strange looking locket in Kreacher's hands._

 _"Take this," Kreacher says as he places the locket in Peter's hands and closes his fingers around it. "Destroy it, snake boy. Destroy it."_

 _A look of confusion crossed Peter's face as he watched the house-elf slowly creep out of the room. Opening up his hands, Peter's eyes widened as he realized what he was actually holding._

* * *

 _July, 1995_

Sometimes, Diana Steward wondered how she ended up to where she was at that moment.

She found herself looking at her husband of 19 years. His dark blond hair seemed even darker without their guest room light on. His face, relaxed but guarded even in sleep, he still was as handsome as the day she met him some 20 odd years ago. She had been 15 when they first started dating, 18 when they tied the knot.

It had been a happy day, her wedding day. Diana remembered seeing her father, a man who hardly ever shown true emotion, openly weep at the sight of his only daughter in her wedding dress. Diana knew that her father, Rory Kaczmarek, was happy for her, but he also grieved for her. Happy that his daughter had found happiness, but grieving for the girl who used to sit on his lap as he told her stories about a war he was too young to fight in but old enough to remember. She had taken in every word her father had said, and every word that he hadn't said.

Her husband's world, and by default her's when she married him, was embroiled in a war she had never even heard about it. Stories of men with sticks that could shoot off lights that caused great explosions and stories of monsters that masquerade as men. She remembered the day Jim's two brothers, Matt and Peter, were taken away by the awful war. A war that the American wizards didn't need to fight in, but the two Steward's believed that it was their battle to fight.

 _"Riddle's blood,"_ Matt had said, his haunting brown eyes boring into her own. _"We should be the ones out there, kicking his ass for the awful legacy he's bringing to our family."_

Diana had always known that Matt saw a purely black and white world, but Peter hadn't. The younger of the two, Peter, he was only 19 when he was murdered by Lord Voldemort himself. Matt, on the other hand, had been 21.

Neither had left behind any children, so when her first born son was born the very next year, Diana and her husband had named him after the two uncle's he should have gotten to meet, not just hear about in stories.

She saw both Matt and Peter in her eldest son. He was kind and shy, much like Peter, but had his moment's of anger and grief about the world that they were living in, just like Matt.

She remembered how Matt had been suspicious of her. Not because she was a no-maj, but because of his paranoia surrounding anyone new in any of his sibling's lives. She vividly remembered how Matt had acted when his only sister Joy had brought home her boyfriend and eventual husband, Colin. Granted, Diana's brother's had done similar things when they had met Jim, maybe she sometimes thought about things far too deeply. She knew that one day her two son's would act in a similar manner whenever Riley brought home a boy for her family to meet.

Only God would know what her husband would do to the poor boy.

She knew that the Order held no trust in her family. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed this, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. In America, the wizarding world there saw her husband's family as beacons of both light and dark. The Steward's had all but kick-started the wizarding world they all knew today, but they had blood ties to infamous wizards that caused a great deal of controversy and death throughout the years.

And yet her husband still married a woman with no magic, disputing yet again that the Steward's were anti-no-maj, just as her father-in-law and grandfather-in-law had done.

Her husband's family, as well as her children, spoke the language of snakes. At first, it had scared her, but after hearing it so many times, she grew to accept it. She still remembered the day she all but ordered her husband to teach her the language. Of course, they hardly got anywhere with that, but Diana knew that Jim had greatly appreciated the gesture. She remembered the day he suggested naming one of their twins after her father, who by then was slowly losing himself in his old age. She remembered the day that the twins were born. Her 3-year-old Peter had been excited to become an older brother. So much so that he had stayed awake for nearly 27 hours, waiting to meet his baby brother and sister. She also remembered how Jim had passed out yet again during their birth, and how she had screamed at him that she wanted a divorce and how he would never touch her again.

She remembered the look of joy on his face as they each held a twin in their arms. She held Rory, Jim held Riley. The look on his face at that moment made Diana remember why she had fallen in love with him in the first place. The look of love and adoration gave evidence that her husband, despite being an heir of Slytherin, a cousin of the vile Dark Lord, was a good man and still is.

Diana wouldn't take that away for the world itself.

* * *

Rory was the first one in his family awake, at least as far as he knew.

Still dressed in his Star Wars themed pajamas, the boy walked down to the kitchen. He saw Mrs. Weasley inside, making breakfast as she muttered something indistinctive under her breath.

Standing at the doorway yet again, the boy spoke for what seemed to be the first time to the red-haired woman.

"That smell's good."

The adult slightly jumped, clearly not expecting for anyone to be up just yet. Turning towards the young boy, she seemed unsure of how to respond. "Why...thank you. You're up early." She was awkward, Rory could tell.

The boy nodded as he sat at the table. He folded his hands as he placed them on the wooden table. "I had trouble sleeping."

An uneasy look crossed the woman's face. Rory knew this look all too well. He knew about how some wizards felt uncomfortable when around him or any of his family members. It came with being a Steward, he guessed.

"You aren't happy that we're here, are you?" The boy asked upfront. He noticed that the witch suddenly seemed ashamed, he figured it was because he was young and had known clear as day that she was uncomfortable with him, a Steward, therefore a Slytherin by blood was around her and her family. Rory wasn't by any means stupid, he knew how some people felt when being around him and his family. It came with being apart of a well-known family, he guessed.

He was used to the stares and whispers by now. And to think, he was only 11 and he knew this.

"I wouldn't say that," the woman tried to explain.

"But you won't deny it, would you?" The boy said unnervingly. "I may be a kid, but I'm not stupid. I know none of you want my family and me here. Your son made that perfectly clear yesterday."

An awkward silence follows this statement. It doesn't bother Rory in the slightest, but it clearly does Mrs. Weasley.

"You're a very observant boy," Mrs. Weasley tells Rory, who nods in agreement.

"I have to be," the boy replies. "I'm a Steward, and Stewards always have to know what's in front of them. Otherwise, we find ourselves drowning and burning. That's never fun."

The English witch only stares at him. He's clearly freaked her out, so he gets out of his seat and starts to leave.

"I think I'll leave you to your cooking," Rory says as he heads for the door. "I don't want you to be any more worried than you already are."

Rory Steward doesn't see the troubled look on Mrs. Weasley's face, but he knows it's there.

* * *

Intense silence fills the kitchen as everyone eats the food Mrs. Wealsey cooked.

"Where in America do you live?" Hermione asked Peter Steward. She wanted to know more about the Steward family. It wasn't every day you got to meet wizards who descended from famous wizards, no matter how infamous they may be.

"New York," Riley said to the bushy-haired teenager, answering for her older brother. "My Uncle Dean also lives there as well, but Aunt Joy lives in Boston."

"There's more of you?" Ron questioned tactlessly, a horrified expression on his face.

"Of course, why wouldn't there be more of us?" Jim questioned, an amused but pointed look crossing his handsome features.

Ron immediately turns red and looks away in order to hide the look of disgust on his face. More bloody Slytherin's, Merlin kill him now.

"Do they have any children?" Lupin asked politely.

Jim nodded. "Joy recently had her...fourth child I believe, and Dean has a daughter."

"What are their names?" Ginny asked.

"Joy has Conor, CJ, Georgie, and Clara, and Dean has Valeria," Jim told the teenager.

"Are Joy and Dean your only siblings?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Jim shook his head. "No, I've got two other brothers, but they were murdered by Riddle in 79'." He frowned as he noticed everyone seemed shocked by this. "You may find this surprising, but my family doesn't want that power-loving asshole back either."

No one says anything after this, not that anyone needed to.

* * *

So, what do you think?

I know there might be some mistakes, so I apologize.

Please, review, like, and/or follow. That would great.

Until next time...

Review(s):

Guest: Thanks for the review. You'll have to wait and see...

Jason: Thanks for the review. I'm not going to confirm or deny that statement.


	4. Taboo Subjects

Heirs of Slytherin

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Thanks to those who have reviewed.

* * *

 _Previously..._

 _"Are Joy and Dean your only siblings?" Mr. Weasley asked._

 _Jim shook his head. "No, I've got two other brothers, but they were murdered by Riddle in 79'." He frowned as he noticed everyone seemed shocked by this. "You may find this surprising, but my family doesn't want that power-loving asshole back either."_

 _No one says anything after this, not that anyone needed to._

* * *

 _August, 1995_

Riley Steward was seen inside the kitchen, sitting under the table as she carefully sewed up the old plush doll she had found in her basement a few months ago. It was missing an eye and had a creepy lined smile, something that made Riley smile. She knew that she was too old for the toy and was far too damaged at the moment for any proper use, but she wanted to fix it up. She figured that it must have belonged to her father's cousin, Lorna Chandler, who died when she was only 12-years-old. Or it may have been Artemisia's, Lorna's mother, doll. It was old and moldy, but clearly once loved dearly. Too bad her great-great-grandfather had to kill Lorna and her twin brother, Daniel. Their ghosts were nice, but they always seemed sad to her about not being able to grow up or even move on to wherever people went when they died. Maybe this doll will cheer Lorna up a little when Riley returned home, and maybe that will cheer Danny up as well. Then again, maybe not since Lorna was far too old for the doll and it seemed next to impossible to cheer up a boy whose mouth had been sewn shut in order to prevent him from screaming.

She briefly wondered if the doll belonged to Theodora Steward, despite hearing the stories about the dead girl hating dolls. Maybe she hid the creepy doll in the basement. Riley had found a lot of her things down there, but only the doll appeared to be hidden. She probably should ask Peter about the doll later and if it was Theodora's or not. He would know. Riley knows that her brother knows a lot more than what he lets on.

 _"They don't seem too bad, do they?"_ Riley heard the lady with the cool hair, Tonks, say. When did she come in?

 _"Not entirely, no,"_ Mrs. Weasley said, though she didn't sound too happy. _"I don't like that they're here though. They're related to You-Know-Who, for all we know they could be spying on us for him."_

 _"He murdered two of Steward's brother's,"_ Tonks pointed out. _"There's definitely more to the story though, you have me there."_

 _"I wonder why none of us ever even heard about the Steward's until now,"_ Mrs. Weasley said. _"I wonder how Professor Dumbledore met them."_

Riley rolled her eyes and tuned the two women out as she continued to work on the strange looking doll in her hands. Riley bitterly wondered why people loved to gossip about her family. They weren't the most interesting family, odd, but not in the slightest interesting.

* * *

It was always easy for Peter to hide. Whether it be in his family's old and haunted home, or in Sirius Black's old and dingy one. People tend to forget about him, which he prefers. It gives him time to think without any interruptions.

He was staring down at the locket he had been given by the house-elf. It was absolutely ugly and old, but it had a charm of its own in a way. He knew it was Salazar Slytherin's locket. He had heard stories about the locket, how the Gaunt's had taken possession of the jewelry. He also knew how it could only be opened by using Parseltongue. Peter was tempted to open but knew better than to do it, especially since it feels weird. He can feel the negative energy encased within the locket. It's vile and raw, it makes him want to throw it everytime he picks it up, or worse put it on and let it stay.

Peter knows that he had to tell his father.

The teenager sighs before getting up and putting the locket at the bottom of his backpack. He'll tell his father once everything's calmed down with his family and the Order.

He could hear the other teenagers in the room, the four Weasley's, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. A twinge of sadness develops in him, he'd like to go and talk to them, but he knew how they felt about him and his family. A bunch of overpopulated snakes, to them they were.

Peter understood his family and their history, he just couldn't understand why people had to judge them all on the actions of a few family members. It was peculiar to him. He didn't blame every no-maj for what had happened during the Twelvetrees-Barebone affair of 1790, if anything he only blamed the dimwitted witch for talking about magic and their world to a no-maj man who had descended from a group of Scourers, wizards who had intergraded within the no-maj society after performing many crimes against fellow wizards.

He looks up as he hears a knock at the door. His mother's head pops in. "C'mon, Pete. We're gonna help the Order clean this place up."

"By the Order, you really mean the Weasley's, Sirius Black, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter?" Peter questioned.

Diana rolled her eyes at the teenager. "Let's go, you need to interact with your peers. This will be a good thing."

"You always say that," Peter muttered as he walked past his mother. "It has yet to happen though."

* * *

Jim's never liked politics. Hated them, is a more proper word to describe it really. He's never been one to really listen to any governmental official, has been that way ever since he was a boy. A grade-A little punk he had been during his youth, it drove both of his parents up the walls. His mother once accused him, along with his siblings less than legal decisions, being among the seemingly many reasons as to why his father, Stephen, had killed himself when Jim was 17. Never once did his mother ever see any good in him or any of his siblings. He was particularly grateful to see his mother dead before Matt and Peter, as awful as it was to say. He loved his mother, but he simply just didn't like her.

Jim was waiting for the Potter boy's trial to be done and over with. He had some things to discuss with old Fudgie, something he'd rather not be doing. Jim waited with Arthur Weasley, who seemed like a good man. He clearly loved his family, something Jim could relate to.

"I understand that you've got a son who doesn't believe Riddle's back," Jim said to Arthur, hoping to pass the time without complete silence.

Arthur frowns, but sighs and nods. "Percy, my third son. Always been an arrogant and ambitious one. Never gave me or my wife any trouble up until this summer." He frowned and looked at Jim. "How would your family react to one of your own betraying you all?"

"In my family, betrayal is one of the many taboo subjects we have, and it always has dire consequences. Whenever a Steward makes a promise, we always keep that promise." Jim sighed and looked away from Arthur. "When we first become parents, there's always an unspoken promise we make to our children, if we fail to raise a Steward who is full of rage and hate, then we are to take everything from that child personally. My great-great-grandmother had done so to my great-grandfather, who had been her only surviving child at that point. She had failed to see what her son had become until he had murdered two of his great-grandchildren, my cousins."

"What had she done to your great-grandfather?" Arthur asked, confusion writing itself on his face.

"She poisoned him and buried his body in the yard like a dog," Jim nonchalantly replied. He sighed and looked at the Weasley patriarch. "What I'm trying to say is-don't let your son's betrayal eat you up, and certainly don't kill him or anything extreme like that. Your son is your responsibility, as are all members of your family."

"And do you consider You-Know-Who your family?"

Jim frowned bitterly. "We share blood, but it doesn't make him family, and yet it does. To me, that makes him mine and my family's responsibility." A dark look crosses the handsome man's face. "Our mistake that has yet to be disposed of properly." His eyes glanced over at the door to Harry's courtroom. "My brother's, they fully believed that but didn't understand that they couldn't just rush in and kill the bastard without any planning. Matthew and Peter, they had been both smart and stupid." He sighed as he looked down at his hands. "It takes a long time for a man to put a noose around his neck before kicking the bucket. Both components and a lot of damn patience for it to be successful. My brothers-they went in with just the bucket but not the rope. Damn fools, they were, but brave fools they had been."

Soon enough, the trial's finally over. Jim watches as Dumbledore first leaves, followed by Fudge and the members of Wizengamont, and then finally Harry Potter himself. Judging by the look on Fudge's face, the boy clearly won.

"And Fudge," Jim continued as he stood, not really giving a damn if Arthur had understood a single word he had said or not. "Is a piñata that's about to be busted open by a spiked bat."

* * *

Jim watched as Fudge muttered angerly behind his over-shined desk.

"Normally, you're less foolish than you are now, Fudgie," Jim retorted as he observed the wizard, who glared at him.

"You have a lot of nerve saying that to be, Steward."

Jim bit back a chuckle. "Am I now? Who died and made you Minister, Minister?"

"Why are you even here, Steward?" Fudge demanded, glaring at the man who held a lot of influence in his country.

"I've heard rumors of my damn cousin making a reappearance once again," Jim answered as he leaned back, making himself comfortable. "And that you blindly refute that."

"Of course I do, it's mad to think that You-Know-

"Voldemort, Fudgie," Jim corrected as he waved a finger in disappointment. "It's one thing to be afraid of the bastard, it's another to be afraid of his stupid moniker. It's not even a good one, hardly anyone with barely functioning brains can properly spell it for Merlin's sake. You know-"

 _"He's not back!"_ Fudge exclaimed, glaring angerly at Jim as he pounded his fist against his desk.

"Real professional, is it your slogan for the next campaign season?"

"Steward!"

Jim chuckled. "I've heard about this year's Defense professor for Hogwarts, I must say it's a rather bad choice."

"What?"

Jim ignored the confused wizard as he continued. "Umbitch has no experience as a teacher, nor does she pass any requirements to be a Defense teacher. Honestly, none of the Aurors were available? I'm well aware of how you're starting to become short-handed with them, but fu-"

"Do _shut up,"_ Fudge growled rather pathetically. "Dolores _Umbridge_ is perfectly qualified for the position, Mr. Steward. No Aurors were available simply because it's below their pay grade-

"So Umbitch is getting paid more as a teacher than a Ministry employee, how wonderful," Jim sarcastically interrupted with a mischevious smirk on his face. 'Especially given the fact that she's apart of Wizengamont and whatever the hell it is she does for the rest of the day." His face suddenly became very serious as he leaned just inches away from Fudge. "If anything happens to my children whilst they are attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do understand that it will be your head I come for first, Cornelius." Leaning back before standing, cold, dark blue eyes rest on Fudge. "And do understand that I only make promises, never any threats."

Without another word, Jim left the office of Cornelius Fudge.

* * *

So, what do you think?

I know there might be some mistakes, so I apologize.

Please, review, like, and/or follow. That would great.

Until next time...


	5. Letters

Heirs of Slytherin

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Thanks to those who have followed, and/or reviewed.

* * *

 _Previously..._

 _Jim ignored the confused wizard as he continued. "Umbitch has no experience as a teacher, nor does she pass any requirements to be a Defense teacher. Honestly, none of the Aurors were available? I'm well aware of how you're starting to become short handed with them, but fu-"_

 _"Do shut up," Fudge growled rather pathetically. "Dolores Umbridge is perfectly qualified for the position, Mr. Steward. No Aurors were avaliable simply because it's below their pay grade-_

 _"So Umbitch is getting paid more as a teacher than a Ministry employee, how wonderful," Jim sarcastically interupted with a mischevious smirk on his face. 'Especially given the fact that she's apart of Wizengamont and whatever the Hell it is she does for the rest of the day." His face suddenly became very serious as he leaned just inches away from Fudge. "If anything happens to my children whilst they are attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do understand that it will be your head I come for first, Cornelius." Leaning back before standing, cold, dark blue eyes rest on Fudge. "And do understand that I only make promises, never any threats."_

 _Without another word, Jim left the office of Cornelius Fudge._

* * *

 _August, 1995_

"You know, my great-great or great-great-great grandfather's brother was married to a Steward," Sirius randomly said as he helped Harry clean up one of the more older rooms in Grimmauld Place. It was a room that no one, not even Kreacher, ever enter. "I can never remember which one though."

"Why don't they have your surname then?" Harry questioned.

"You would have to ask Steward," Sirius answered. "He probably knows more about my blasted family than I do." He started looking through an old, rusted trunk after he pried it open with his wand.

Inside was a bunch of old photos and letters. Sirius had never seen them before, and considering it had been locked away for decades, he had to guess that his parents and possibly grandparents didn't see any of this.

He picked up one of the letters and swore as he started reading it.

 _9 May, 1870_

 _Mother,_

 _It would appear as though you and father are now great-grandparents. Viola has given birth to a healthy boy. She and her squib husband are rather pleased, though I do believe Anton was for some bloody reason hoping for a daughter. They're calling the boy Maxim, Maxim Dmitriyev-Steward. I find it rather insulting, but amusing all the same, that a foreign squib with both a muggle and wizard name is able to pass his name on to his children, while a man such as myself cannot. No doubt it's Elizabeth's way of spitting me for suggesting that our only son, my only son out of thirteen children, at least take my surname with hers. Merlin knows that Philip needs something to differ from his sisters._

 _The boy is both a Steward and a Black, but then who am I to compete with a woman who descends from the line of Salazar Slytherin? Elizabeth is far more elegant than any of the Gaunt's, you would find her sufficient. A woman not fit for this time, but perfect for it all the same. She scares men beyond her years with her intellect, and I can't help but continue to love her for it. She's a Slytherin, but also a Steward, and it makes her more worthy of beholding the words of snakes and the legacy of a Hogwarts founder than even Salazar Slytherin himself._

 _Do give the family my love,_

 _Maxim Philip Black_

"What does it say?" Harry questioned.

Sirius didn't say anything as he looked at the photo of a young couple with a newborn in their arms. The photo held no color, and the edges were severely faded, but the small family could be made out perfectly. The young woman had dark hair and eye, she wore a simple dress that appeared to suit her perfectly. Her hair was curled, and she looked very beautiful. The young man next to the young woman was as handsome as his lady was beautiful. He too had dark hair and eyes, the color a similar shade to the young woman's, though that may be in part of the coloring of the photo, or lack of it. He had an uncharacteristically boyish grin on his face, both he and the young woman were looking at the infant in the young woman's arms. They both looked like they were looking at the best thing they had ever created. Maybe the child was.

He turned the picture around. Written on the back was the name of the young family. Anton, Viola, and Maxim Dmitriyev-Steward. The year was the same as the letter Maxim Black had sent.

It didn't take long for Sirius and Harry to tell the rest of the Order about what they found. They both were particularly relieved to see that none of the Stewards were there, seeing as they were with Dumbledore for an unknown reason.

"There's a lot of photos and letters in here," Hermione said in amazement. She was looking at an old colored photo of a family of four. A man with brown hair and eyes and scars littering his otherwise handsome face, a stunning woman with raven black hair and mesmerizing green eyes, and two children, twins by the look of it. The boy had his father's hair and eye color, while the girl had her mother's. The girl was holding a rather unsettling doll in her arms. Their names were on the back, as well as the date.

 _Hugo, Artemisia, Daniel, and Lorna Chandler, 1950_

Hermione placed that photo down and grabbed another, a letter came along with it. It was a black and white photo of four teenagers, three boys, and one girl. They all had dark hair, but the girl's hair was the darkest in comparison to the boy's hair. They wore old fashioned clothing, the girl wore a dark dress. All three boys wore buttoned up shirts and trousers, the boy at the end, the only one with eyes that matched his hair color, wore suspenders to keep his pants from dropping. They all had leather shoes on their feet. Hermione saw their names on the back.

 _Erik, Artemisia, Stephen, and Arvin Steward, 1936_

Hermione chose to read the letter out loud, alerting everyone in the process.

"This photo comes late," Hermione said as she started reading. "My deepest apologizes, despite knowing that this letter may never even be opened. In the two years since this photo, both Erik and Arvin have died, murdered needlessly by Gellert Grindelwald himself. Arvin went first not long after this photo was taken, mere days actually. He was only 16. Erik died just a little under a month ago, he had been 18. I have so far lost all twelve of my daughters, all eighteen of my grandchildren, and so far seven great-grandchildren. I would trade my own son's life for all twelve of my daughters, all eighteen of my grandchildren, and the seven of nine great-grandchildren. Why you must be wondering. He's joined Gellert Grindelwald, Philip has, the bloody bastard. One day, his trail of blood will end and we all can let out a sigh of relief. Until the next fool comes around at least. Alas, not today, maybe tomorrow.

"Both Erik and Arvin lasted longer than I had anticipated, and Artemisia and Stephen continue to amaze me with the fact that both still live to this day. The power all four of them could have held, if only they hadn't been attacked all those years ago. None of them ever lost control, not once. The power they hold at their fingertips, it is not surprising Grindelwald wants it, wants them, and gladly would kill them if they refuse. A part of me is glad that both Erik and Arvin are dead, so the abilities they pocessed would not of be used "for the greater good," as Grindelwald proclaims. I fear for Artemisia and Stephen though, for they still both live, and Grindelwald is stll at large. It makes me angry every time Elizabeth and I speak with Albus Dumbledore. He has the power to defeat Grindelwald, yet he does not take any steps towards it. He has also taken to ignoring our letters, often sending the Scamander boy to our door. As much as my family finds Newt endearing and brilliant, we would rather hear from Dumbledore himself on the matter of Gellert Grindelwald, rather than a man who likes magical creatures far more than he does magical people. Elizabeth knows more, for she has known Albus most of his life. She says that the situation at hand between Dumbledore and Grindelwald is complicated and that one day they both will know that an end has to come. If not today, then tomorrow, Maxim Philip Black."

* * *

Stepping inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it made Jim and his children miss Ilvermorny. It was quite different from their school, far older, with far more interesting tales to tell.

"It would be best if Peter were to be sorted now as opposed to with the incoming first years," Dumbledore explained to Jim and Diana as they, along with Peter, Riley, and Rory, walked through the halls of the school Isolt Sayre dreamt of attending.

"And Riley and Rory?" Diana questioned, a frown gracing her face. "Would it not be easier to sort them now? They've already revieved their houses for Ilvermorny so that when we do return home, they won't have to endure the stares and jibes from other children."

"What makes you think that others will-

"My children have the legacy of a dead man and woman hanging over their heads, it would be impossible for them not to have a bully here and there."

Dumbledore only nods in response to the dark haired woman's blunt answer. "Unfortunately, they both will have to wait for their sorting, as will the other incoming students."

It doesn't take them long to get to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster places the Sorting Hat on Peter's head.

 _"My, what an interesting mind you have, Mr. Steward,"_ Peter hears inside his head.

 _"Ah...thanks, I think."_

The Sorting Hat chuckles. _"You carry the blood of Salazar Slytherin, such a rare sight for myself. Not very Slytherin though, are you? You've got his qualities, but not his beliefs. Very intelligent, I see, but very sullen. Very loyal and kind. You strive to distance yourself from your blood, not out of ambition or a desire for power."_

 _"Shocking, isn't it?"_

The Hat laughs again at the boy's sharp tonuge. _"Slytherin you are, but Slytherin you are not. Secrets you carry close, but not out for any negative purposes. You fear for your family. Fiercely determined to protect your family, you are, but you seek out peace more than you do war. You only raise your fists when you're forced to. A rarity indeed, young Slytherin, you are."_

The Steward's and Dumbledore watched as Peter silently spoke with the Sorting Hat until the hat spoke out loud.

"Yes, I hope you find your answers in..."

* * *

So, what do you think? Which house should Peter Steward be in?

I know there might be some mistakes, so I apologize.

Please, review, like, and/or follow. That would great.

Until next time...


	6. How Lovely

Heirs of Slytherin

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Thanks to those who have followed, and/or favored.

Note: This chapter will feature a flashback.

* * *

 _Previously..._

"Shocking, isn't it?"

 _The Hat laughs again at the boy's sharp tongue._ "Slytherin you are, but Slytherin you are not. Secrets you carry close, but not out for any negative purposes. You fear for your family. Fiercely determined to protect your family, you are, but you seek out peace more than you do war. You only raise your fists when you're forced to. A rarity indeed, young Slytherin, you are."

 _The Steward's and Dumbledore watched as Peter silently spoke with the Sorting Hat until the hat spoke out loud._

 _"Yes, I hope you find your answers in..."_

* * *

 _August, 1995_

Albus Dumbledore watched as the Steward boy, Peter, was sorted into Ravenclaw. It was shocking to a slight degree, but the old man knew better than to be. The boy was apart of the Steward family after all, and not all of them were in Horned Serpent or Pukwudgie. He shouldn't expect for them all to end up in Slytherin.

He examined Peter Matthew Steward as he took the Sorting Hat off. The boy looked very similar to both of his namesakes, his two deceased uncles. He had their brown hair and eyes, though his hair was as curly as his mother's. He was thin, much like his Uncle Peter, but had a lean, athletic build, like his Uncle Matt. All three Steward boy's looked like Arvin, Stephen's brother, though with their differences of course. Arvin had wary, hesitant eyes, while Matt had wary and firery eyes. The late Peter Steward, his eyes were hesitant but very kind. This Peter, the one standing in Dumbledore's office, had similar eyes to all three deceased Steward's, and that was troubling. Not because he believed that the boy would follow in his uncles and great-uncle's footsteps, but because he saw traces of Stephen Steward in the boy's eyes.

Dumbledore watched as Peter Steward was hugged by his parents, who no doubt looked proud of their eldest child. He was at least an inch taller than what his grandfather had been at 15. Of course, Stephen Steward would later go on to grow taller than most, by the time he was in his 20's, he was at least two inches taller than Dumbledore, not to mention the exact height of his son's, Matt and Jim.

Dumbledore glanced at Jim and he couldn't help but remember when he first met the dark blond haired man.

* * *

 _August, 1979_

He was the only non-Steward inside the room. He saw Elizabeth Steward, standing with an emotionless, but emotional look on her face. Despite her being well past 150, the woman was not only standing but showed no signs of discomfort or weakness due to her age, only grief and anger. After losing her parents, her 17-year-old sister, her thirteen children, most of whom did not even make it completely to the cradle, all eighteen grandchildren, all nine great-grandchildren, her husband, and four of her seven great-great-grandchildren, she's seen more death within her family than Dumbledore could ever.

Next to her was the three remaining Steward children, the last of Elizabeth's direct bloodline. They were standing at the two coffins that were placed next to one another. The two brown-haired young men in the coffins looked dead. There was no sugar coating it, they didn't look like they were sleeping, but were dead. As such a morbid thing to say, it was no lie. More Steward children were dead, more children for Elizabeth to bury.

James, Joy, and Dean Steward, were their names if Dumbledore wasn't mistaken. They all had dark blond hair, unlike their brown-haired brother's. He couldn't see their faces, so he couldn't see their eye colors. He knew that Stephen had blue eyes, very dark at moments, full of stories and horrors. His blue eyes were rather peculiar, due to his father, Richard, having brown eyes, and his mother, Dinah, having green eyes. They were Elizabeth Steward's blue eyes, there was no doubting that. He also knew that his wife, Valeria, had brown eyes. He only met her a few fair times before her own death the previous year. Unlike the funeral now, no one had really shed many tears over the death of Valeria Steward. Young Dean had cried, but his elder siblings had kept their emotions in check. Very Steward-like, Dumbledore mused. While out in public, the Steward's wore invisible masks that hid any and all emotions. He could only guess at why they never expressed any emotions, both positive and negative, while out and about. He would never answer it though, nor would he ever question the Steward's. Even at her advanced age, Elizabeth Steward was one woman no one could successfully slip past. This was made perfectly clear when she murdered her own son without a second thought at the advanced age of 133.

He walked towards the Steward's. The three elder Steward's had their emotions well hidden, Dumbledore noticed as he got closer. 21-year-old James, his blue eyes looked dark and haunted, and 19-year-old Joy had brown eyes that were full of anger. Only 9-year-old Dean had tears in his blue eyes. He kept whipping his watery eyes with his black jacket.

Dumbledore stood next to Elizabeth, who didn't even glance at him, but her three great-great-grandchildren did.

"What do you want, Albus?"

Dumbledore noted the cold tone in the witch's voice. He was the last person she wanted to see, and she was the last person he personally wanted to speak to.

"I'm here to offer my condolences, Elizabeth."

"You've offered them, now leave."

"Eliz-

"Unless you have something of importance to tell me, Albus," the cold-toned woman spoke.

Albus sighed, briefly glancing at the Steward children, who were all staring at him. He leaned in towards the elderly woman's ear. _"I've discovered who currently holds Ignotus Peverell's cloak."_

A deep scowl appeared on the Steward matriarch. Dumbledore watched as Elizabeth briskly whispered to James, who only nodded. Elizabeth then turned to him and motioned for him to follow her out of the room.

"Your Minister is not here?" Elizabeth questioned as they walked into the hallway.

"No, Minister Minchum is in his final months of office," Dumbledore spoke. "He's busy working on keeping his laws in place, so Milicent Bagnold won't change them when she comes into office."

Elizabeth scoffed. "The world could care less about the number of Dementors your island prison employs. He should have focused more on the damn fool that's currently terrorizing your country. You might as well sick the Dementors on the Death Eaters. Merlin knows that it'll be more effective due to the number of Death Eaters who can actually defend themselves from a Dementor."

"And how many is that?" Dumbledore politely questioned. He knew that the likelihood of the Patronus charm working for dark wizards was very slim, but he always knew better than to not question the Steward woman.

"Zero," the woman bluntly spoke. "If there is one then that bastard must be one vile person."

Dumbledore said nothing as they entered a room that appeared to be an office. Photographs were hung up on the wall, as well as a few framed documents and childish drawings. There also was a solid oak desk, stacks of parchment were seen, as well as vials of ink, quills, and what appeared to be the severed head of a bobblehead that had red X's over the eyes, and crude staples over the mouth. How lovely.

"Lorna must have been in here earlier," Elizabeth mentioned as she looked at the bobblehead. "For a ghost, she's rather malevolent."

"Is it possible that the ghost of your great-great-granddaughter is somehow a poltergeist?" Dumbledore questioned as he stared at the severed head.

A smirk danced on Elizabeth's face. "It would explain a lot, actually." Her smirk then fell, replaced by a stern scowl. "My son murdered her and her twin brother for foolish reasons. He sewed Danny's mouth shut, while he gave Lorna a Glasgow smile. She as holding my daughter, Theodora's, doll when he killed her. She, and in the process, he is never too far from that little old thing. I had to hide it in our basement, so the Chandler twins didn't follow Joy around whenever she had the rag doll." Sighing heavily, Elizabeth looked at the Headmaster of Hogwarts. "Tell me about Peverell's cloak. I don't have all day, after all, I've got two boys to grieve for."

* * *

 _August, 1995_

Dumbledore didn't return with the Stewards, to Harry's irritation. He was surprised to hear about the Slytherin boy's house, Ravenclaw. A descendant of Slytherin himself, _a bloody Ravenclaw?_

"Let me see your class list, Pete," Harry heard Jim Steward say. He already had his list for the year?

Harry watched as the 15-year-old American wizard passed over a folded up letter before looking at the bowl of food Mrs. Weasley was sitting on the table. He nearly flew out of his chair when he saw the head of a little girl with raven colored hair, mesmerizing green eyes, and what appeared to be a wide Glasgow smile, popped out of the bowl.

"Hello, what's for supper?"

Mrs. Weasley screamed while everyone else shot out of their seats. The Steward's, on the other hand, all remained in their seats. Diana looked shocked, as did the Steward twins, while Jim looked annoyed, and Peter amused.

"Where's the doll, Riley?" Jim questioned his daughter, his eyes boring into his daughter with frustration.

The girl frowned, a guilty look crossing her features. "I thought I could fix it for Lorna. She always looks so sad."

Jim scowled, Harry could see that the man was trying not to lose his patience. "It was hidden for a reason." He pointed at the ghost in the food bowl. "That is the very reason, young lady!"

The ghost, Lorna, stuck her tongue out at the American wizard. "You used to be fun, Jimmy. What happened?"

"You tried to kill me," Jim retorted dryly as he glared at the dead girl.

"We were playing."

"No, you were playing," Jim argued. "I was running for my life."

"From what?"

 _"From you!"_

"Bullshit," Lorna proclaimed. "You were having fun on that swing!"

"Swings aren't supposed to be wrapped around people's necks, Lorna!"

Harry watched as Lorna glided through the table, and angerly leave the kitchen. _"Danny!"_

Harry jumped as another ghost, this one transparent and greyish-silver, passed through the table and followed Lorna out of the room. He had untamed hair, and...was his mouth sewn shut?

No one said anything until Peter spoke rather nonchalantly.

"Well then, can someone pass the mashed potatoes?"

* * *

So, what do you think?

I know there might be some mistakes, so I apologize.

Please, review, like, and/or follow. That would great.

Until next time...


End file.
